


Not a child, still a bird.

by Anonymous



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:08:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22259977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Sansa is sent by Daenerys to talk to Cersei about an alliance against the Night King. It's been a long time since they last met; has Sansa changed?
Relationships: Cersei Lannister/Sansa Stark
Kudos: 34
Collections: Unofficial FFA Anon Collection





	Not a child, still a bird.

"I wondered if they'd send my brother to persuade me to join your little alliance," Cersei remarked. "I suppose sending you is smarter. Though you still betrayed me, little bird."  
  
In the old days, a hostage in King's Landing, Sansa would have stared at the floor and begged forgiveness. Now she is no longer afraid of Cersei (or so she tells herself) and she meets her gaze evenly. "I ran to save my life--there was no betrayal there. Besides, you know very well you never had my loyalty in the first place. You only had a knife to my throat."  
  
Cersei smiled. "Pretty little Sansa. You're all grown up. Lady of Winterfell." From her mouth, the title was mocking. "Well, let the past be the past." This did not sound very sincere either. "Tell me what the conqueror queen wants. That's what you're here for, isn't it? To play a Targaryen's mouthpiece?"  
  
It was indeed what Sansa was here for, so why did hearing it make her clench her jaw? Why was it her instinct to protest?

  
Cersei said she needed the night to think things over. But in the evening she summoned Sansa to her room.  
  
"Have you made your choice, then?" Sansa didn't think it should be that difficult, really, to decide to protect oneself against an army of undead monsters. But then, she grew up a Stark, always aware that Winter was coming. In the South, people like Cersei played political games and thought they understood all the brutality of life just because they understood the brutality of humans.  
  
"I said I wanted the night."  
  
"Why ask for me then?"  
  
"I wanted to talk to you, little bird," Cersei said. "Without you playing Targaryen diplomat. Sansa Stark, how you have changed."  
  
She beckoned Sansa to come closer. Sansa's feet twitched to obey, but she firmly set her heels. She was not the Lannisters' plaything anymore. Just as she did not belong to Joffrey or Tyrion, she certainly did not belong to Cersei.  
  
Cersei, who had been perched on her bed, sighed and got to her feet. "You've gotten some nerve." She walked around behind Sansa, and Sansa fought to stay still, not to turn and make sure Cersei wouldn't stab her in the back. "You've grown..." Her hands settled on Sansa's shoulders. "But why do you wear black, now? Did you pick that up from Petyr Baelish?"  
  
"You wear black too," Sansa pointed out. In court, at least, their militaristic outfits had looked similar; now Cersei was wearing a nightgown, making Sansa think of a time when they had both been a little softer, a little more vulnerable--though it was arrogant of Sansa to think Cersei had ever been as soft as Sansa's former self, there had been a time when she was not as hard as this...  
  
"Yes, I wear black. So you're copying me, then?" Cersei asked.  
  
"Do you like the idea?"  
  
Cersei had walked around her and now stood in front. A smile ghosted across her face. "Yes. I find I do."  
  
She cupped the back of Sansa's neck and pulled her into a kiss. Sansa froze, feeling very much the prey, until Cersei stepped away, eyes mocking. "You are still not much like me, though. You are still young and weak."  
  
She turned away, and Sansa suddenly felt a wave of some wild emotion in her chest. Anger. Humiliation. Abandonment.  
  
The feelings of a young girl at Winterfell, who had thought Cersei was terribly grown up and pretty and having her as a mother in law would be awfully nice. The feelings of a young girl at King's Landing, hearing Cersei tell her harsh and sometimes nasty truths, slowly learning Cersei only cared about her in a careless way, as a tool to be used, as a piece of amusement. The feelings of a grown woman still being treated like the same foolish young girl.  
  
She was barely aware of what she was doing as she grabbed Cersei's arm and forcefully turned her around. "I am not a child anymore!"  
  
Cersei's eyes widened. "Really?"  
  
Sansa kissed her in the vicious way of a woman who had learned that intimacy was a weapon, and when Cersei returned the kiss, it was with the exact same vigor.

  
"You may stay if you like," Cersei said. "In my bed. Some like to do that."  
  
Her voice was distant.  
  
It was time for Sansa to turn away and leave, but she couldn't stop looking at her. Cold and warm, soft and hard. That they were both broken did not mean they could really reach each other. Certainly it didn't mean they could fix each other.  
  
She said, "I should go."  
  
"I knew you would. Little Sansa always runs away."  
  
"I am not--I am here as a diplomat. Even this was a mistake."  
  
Cersei rolled her eyes. Turning back to Sansa, she said, "You'll be a Targaryen mouthpiece again in the morning. Tonight, tell me the truth. Do you really think Daenerys Targaryen is all that much better than me?"  
  
"I think that Winter has come, and if we can't work together, we will all die."  
  
Cersei's lips quirked. "Little bird, we'll all die someday anyhow." She waved a hand. "On your way, then."  
  
Sansa was no longer Cersei's to command nor Cersei's to frighten, but even though it was her choice not to stay, even though she left with an even stride, she still felt like a kicked dog fleeing.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a 100 words thread of "fandom by osmosis", but since people thought the fic felt more or less in-character, I thought I might as well post it on here. Hope you enjoyed :)


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